Gardening: When every petal counts

Winter is the season for minimalism, with evergreens and small but highly scented flowers, says Mary Keen reports

Picking something from the garden at Christmas is a rare treat, and there are a few shrubs that never let you down. Go for the fragrant Viburnum bodnantense, Garrya elliptica, of the silky green tassles; or Mahonia japonica, which is like a giant holly with yellow lily of the valley-scented flowers. Perennials are less reliable. Helleborus niger, the Christmas Rose, rarely lives up to its name, but the bright pink miniature Cyclamen coum are usually out in ones and twos on Christmas morning. On a fine Boxing Day, the garden should breathe an air of promise. A small stir is enough, just the feeling that things are on the move as the year turns over. Anything in the dark days is a cause for celebration.

Winter is for minimalists. The abundant overkill of June never attracts the close devotion and inspection that is given to every petal that appears now, at the low point of the solstice - when scarce winter flowers mean so much more than all those filling the beds in the high riot of summer. This is a time of year to get excited by blunt, green shoots nosing through the ground, by one crocus, or a single scented flower, smaller than the nail on a little finger. None of these would be noticed while the attention- seeking summer show-offs are out.

Few winter flowers are showy: their beauty is in the detail, but a couple of wall shrubs are worth growing if you never set foot outside and want to see colour from behind the window pane. On a grey wall, in the sight of the kitchen sink, I admire the winter jasmine throughout the cold season. Showers of small, gold flowers, like sparks from a bonfire at dusk, fall daily down its graceful stems. It may be ordinary, but it is one of the plants I would always want to grow in the garden. Cottage gardens often have clipped arches of winter jasmine around a northfacing door. To see it at its starry best, cut back the old shoots that have flowered in spring, to make room for the new growth that will carry next year's display. Once you have a plant, pieces of the trailing shoots will root on the ground so that you can afford to give it away, or plant it in several places. It can even be grown in a large pot, lashed to a six-foot tripod, so that cascades of yellow fall around it.

Prunus mume is a Japanese apricot to grow on a sunny wall. The best form - shocking pink and faintly scented - is called Beni-chidori. This is a flower for the dank days of February, but it does need space and careful training. Like the jasmine, it flowers on new shoots but it looks best when fanned against the wall so that each stem has space to be seen. As it grows fast in summer, there is work to be done in the busy months keeping the Prunus in order. But when the branches are covered in their brightest pink blossom, it all seems worthwhile. Not many gardens will have as much colour as Beni-chidori provides around St Valentine's Day. This isn't an easy one to find (see addresses below).

Scented flowers are a winter speciality. These are the ones to bring indoors. One twig is enough to make a room smell heavenly. The white form of Daphne mezereum is easier on the eye than the dusty purple of the common form, but both are heavily scented. These Daphnes hate to be moved and resist digging around their roots, but they can stand shade, limey soil and neglect, so they are easy to manage if you keep a respectful distance. The white form has yellow berries to follow the flowers which are out for seven to eight weeks from the end of January depending on the weather. If you harvest the berries before the birds get to them, they are easy to germinate. A Daphne by the door will scent all your comings and goings. As you put down the shopping to fumble for your key, it offers instant consolation, a reminder that everything is starting all over again.

The winter honeysuckle - Lonicera x purpusii, Winter Beauty, is the best - is another shrub to put near a path or doorway. The flowers are tiny hooded, wax-white things, but there are plenty of them and their scent is a knockout. It grows into a big bush and needs more room than the Daphne, but that means you can cut large branches to bring indoors without jeopardising future displays. Admittedly this is a dull feature in summer, but as winter lasts so long, I think it is worth the sacrifice of summer space for flowers in the cold months.

For a more discreet summer presence, there are two evergreens worth considering. One is Christmas Box - another plant to put by the back door, because its minuscule flowers are scented. The shiny green leaves and pinky stems and ribs of the leaves in the form called Hookeriana digyna look fresh all summer. In winter they positively sparkle. All glossy leaves are a bonus on dark days because they reflect light. For this reason, hollies are more cheerful than any evergreen.

Now that lack of light in winter has been recognised as something we really can suffer from, and those who endure Seasonal Affective Disorder should spend time under sun-lamps, the rest of us who feel seasonally gloomy can arrange to plant the garden with beacons of silver. Think moonlight and hoarfrost, rather than golden rays of sun, and if this minor-key luminosity is your style you will love the silvery-white stems of the ornamental bramble Rubus cockburnianus. This gets cut to the ground each spring leaving space for summer flowers. Its ghostly branches are as beautiful as anything in the garden. The silvery Box bush, Buxus elegantissima, is another bringer of light. This is a slow grower with great charm. It can be clipped into a formal shape, but it seems more mysterious when left to grow naturally. From a distance it gleams, and close up, each leaf is etched with creamy white.

White gardens inspired by the famous example at Sissinghurst are often disappointing in broad summer daylight. The Sissinghurst model was designed to be seen at dusk as the Nicholson family crossed the garden to eat in a different building. White flowers in winter have the same effect; they stand out better against a grey light. Imagine snowdrops in summer - they would look almost dingy under blue skies, but on grey days in winter they appear all the more brilliant. Drifts of snowdrops are the best winter tonic of all. Start with a few clumps, divide and replant them each year after flowering and they will increase faster than you can imagine. The bigger scented forms, like Galanthus Sam Arnott, are well worth the expense. Ten pounds for three bulbs might sound like a lot, but five years on, after some conscientious division, three bulbs should have multiplied to more than 90, which is a better return on your money than you get for most purchases.

! Most of the plants mentioned here should be easy to find at good garden centres, although the following may need more of a search. 'Daphne mezereum alba', 'Prunus mume' Beni-chidori and 'Sarcococca hookeriana digyna' are all listed by Starborough Nursery of Marsh Green, Edenbridge, Kent TN8 5BR (01732 865614). Their minimum mail order is pounds 25, but they regularly attend the RHS flower shows at Vincent Square in London where orders can be collected. The snowdrop ('Galanthus Sam Arnott') would also be found at the flower show in early March.